What Greater Gift
by I'mAnAngelReally
Summary: Severus Snape doesn't own any pets, but clearly someone forgot to tell the cat that.
1. Cats Choose Us We Don't Own Them

**Cats Choose Us; We Don't Own Them**

 **AN: Much of this chapter simply wouldn't exist without J K Rowling and her marvellous creations. You might recognise this scene from HPatOotP. All I did was let the cat in.**

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Severus Snape does not own any pets - doesn't want to, in fact - but someone clearly forgot to tell the cat that.

After appearing out of nowhere this morning, getting under his feet while he'd been cramming in a last second study session on the way to his exam, and then, for no real reason he can discern, jumping at the door to the room and wailing like Moaning Myrtle, he remembered why he'd never wanted a pet. Professor Flitwick had had to go and shoo the creature away from the hall eventually. He'd thought that was the end of it.

No. It's following him now. You get used to the feeling of being stalked when you're the favourite plaything of Potter and his _friends._ Its eyes feel like cool air on the nape of his neck, which is distinctly more pleasant than the spider leg feel of his tormentors, but still enough to make him twitch. He focuses harder on the exam paper in his hands. There's a sense of hope flickering inside that if he ignores it, it will fixated on someone else. His luck cannot be all bad, right?

Before long, he finds himself on the edge of the lake. Through habit, he settles himself in the cloak of shadow provided by a selection of bushes. The grass is cold beneath him, the memory of this morning's dew seeping into his robes. He doesn't mind it as much as he should. It reminds him of the Slytherin dormitories. No, not the damp itself, just the possibility of it. Of course, Severus doubts that there ever would be an appearance of damp, even if the whole thing sits underneath the Great Lake - and doesn't that just scream 'disaster waiting to happen'?

The cat tumbles into the brush behind him.

Severus sighs. What was that about luck? There's no luck for someone with a name like his, all hissing and curling and slippery, like the very harbinger of omens.

He stuffs his paper into his bag - he shouldn't worry over it so much anyway, he's good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, he's definitely got the exam nailed - and hurries to his feet. There's still a chance he can lose the cat. Hogwarts is a big school.

"All right, Snivellus?" Potter calls from behind him.

 _Fuck's sake_. He jerks around, dropping everything in his haste to reach for his wand hidden up his sleeve. He's not fast enough, of course, Potter's always one step ahead as he disarms him.

He hears the thud as it lands in the grass.

And then he hears Potter's' bloody mutt laughing as he approaches. Severus dives for his wand.

"Impedimenta," Black cries, and Severus' body is thrown dramatically off course before he can reach his target.

 _Fuck fuck fuck._

The eyes of the other students fall heavy on his shoulders, holding him down as much as the spell. He tries calling his wand to him, hurtling thought after thought after thought towards it with increasing desperation. If he can just have it back, gain strength from the familiarity of it, he can teach them not to touch him again, not to even look at him, again. He's stronger than they are, all of them.

He feels them step closer. Ignore them, ignore them. Just for now, this moment. Get the wand. Get the wand. Come wand. Accio. Accio. _ACCIO._

It doesn't so much as wiggle in his direction, and, as laughter begins to penetrate through his haze of concentration, he begins to tug more violently against the bonds holding him. They have to break. Have to break. There's no way Black can have magic powerful enough to keep him down forever, is there?

No. He _can't_ be this weak.

He turns his eyes on Potter. "you—wait. You—wait!"

"Wait for what?" Black asks. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

A part of him snorts at the unoriginal insult the mutt has bestowed on him. It always boils down to his hair and his nose and his name as though he hasn't cursed every God existing and not for this body.

The rest of him doesn't have the same cool detachment, spitting curses and hexes and every swear word he has ever heard his father utter at him.

Even his anger isn't enough to direct his magic.

And then soap erupts inside his mouth. It's killing him slowly. Slipping down his throat, foaming in his lungs - he can't cough it out fast enough, gagging...

"Leave him ALONE!"

 _Lily._

The bubbles slow in their appearance as Potter switches his attention. Severus would laugh if he had the air to do it with. Idiot. Did he think Lily would fall over herself under his simpering eyes?

He doesn't waste time listening to his pathetic attempts at flirting - ignoring, for the moment, of his own pathetic failings, of Lily having to see him so weak, again - instead fighting harder against impediment jinx. He can feel the bonds of it beginning to wear away, now that Black's attention is fixed somewhere else. Yes. Yes. It's slipping. He crawls, inch by awful inch, towards his fallen wand, coughing up soap. He's surprised by the appearance of the kitten, once forgotten after Potter's attack, now sitting vigil over his wand as though hiding it from view. It mews at him, green eyes bulging. _Hurry. Hurry._

He crawls faster. So close. He stretches out his fingers, and the kitten nudges the wand into them.

 _Yes!_

"Sectumsempra."

A flash from his wand hurtles towards Potter. Black calls a warning, but it's Severus that has the upper hand now, and his chest swells at the sight of blood splattering over Potter's robes. His spell had worked! He knew it would, of course, but -

Severus' body jerks into the air, suspended by an invisible thread around his ankle. His robes flutter down him and over his face. Cool air hits his legs; heat flushes his cheeks.

 _NO!_

Why can't they … why can't they just leave him alone? Isn't it enough that he has all the failings of his father's face, that he has to be the punchline to every single joke?

And now, to be so paraded in front of Lily…

The spell is broken, and he falls into a heap on the floor. This won't stand, no, he can't let it stand. His hand is almost shaking as he rushes to his feet, a curse on his tongue, and then Black freezes him before he can get the magic out.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily is there again, her own wand out, beautiful red hair flying in righteous anger, anger for him. It fills his heart with dark curls of shame. What use is his magic, what usd is his power, if Lily has to defend him? It should be him protecting her, looking after her, the way he had when they were children. Lily had needed him then, his stories of Hogwarts and magic. She doesn't need him now. Surely she can see that. Surely that will make her leave.

Lily says something that makes Potter sigh, and The curse slithers away from him. Her eyes are watching, watching his pathetic excuse of a person scrabble to his feet. The darkness inside is spreading further, chilling him. He can't meet her curious stare, can't look at her at all.

"There you go," Potter said. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus—"

Something snaps. He doesn't know what it is, only that, in the face of her beauty, her courage, he's floundering. Is this how is father felt, knowing his wife could do things that he couldn't? Knowing his wife was something more, something he couldn't hold a candle to?

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

That's what Tobias Snape would say. Yes. Yes. Shatter her, break her, show her how utterly worthless she is so she needs him again.

No. Wait. Why is he saying that?

"Fine," Lily says, pummelling shards of ice into his very soul. "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

Severus can't even find the strength to respond. Seeing her rosebud lips insulting him, spilling out that horrible name, he has never imagined such a thing.

It's so wrong.

"Apologise to Evans!" Potter cries. Severus stares unblinking at the wand in his face.

Fuck, he's right. What world has he fallen into where James Pratface Potter is actually right?

His mouth flaps like a fish, gasping for air. He needs to speak now, say something, make her look at him, apologise, apologise, apologise.

"You make me SICK," Lily bites out. Severus no longer knows who she's talking to; it might as well be him. She doesn't look at him once as she turns on her heel and leaves.

It matters very little when Potter sends Severus into the air once again, and nothing at all when he calls "who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" because all he can do is watch Lily hurry away from him and it's all his fault.

As it turns out, Potter doesn't get to bare Severus' all. The kitten, having had enough of his jeering, digs its claws into his leg. He drops Severus like a sack of potatoes. "What the-?"

This time, Severus doesn't attempt revenge. Doesn't make any noise at all.

All Slytherins know when to cut their loses.

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 **AN: The title comes from a quote by Charles Dickens - 'What greater gift than the love of a cat' - and the chapter title comes from Kristin Cast.  
There'll be a proper introduction next time, never fear.**


	2. Even Cats Grow Lonely and Anxious

**Disclaimer: All credit goes to J K Rowling, her marvellous creations, and the wonder of cats**

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 **Even Cats Grow Lonely and Anxious**

Of course, the kitten is there when he gets back from Gryffindor Tower, sitting on his bed. He's in no mood to deal with it. Less so when it stares up at him with those eyes, like chipped jade. It has made a habit of sleeping on his bed, and nothing, not even carrying it outside the dormitory and shutting the door in its face, has managed to deter it. He still carries the marks on his arms, for Merlin's sake, though at least he'd managed to fix the tear in his robes. He can't afford another lot. It's bad enough that the greying fabric has been infected with white cat hairs.

Not that anyone is laughing at the hairs, oh no. Anyone brave enough to meet his glare is remembering his pale legs and his underwear, waving about in the sky. Nobody says anything, but its all there in their eyes, in the twitch of their lips. It'll almost be a relief to go home for the summers. Who'll remember Snivellus' grey underwear through all their sordid sunshine affairs?

He ignores the cat and slips into bed.

Lily still refuses to see him.

No, he can't blame her, but she's all he has, and he can't just let that go. Not now.

He curls into a ball of self loathing.

"Mew?"

"No," he croaks, "go away."

"Mew!"

A paw reaches for his face. Severus closes his eyes, hopes it's enough to convince the fiend to leave. The cat has other ideas, sticking its nose against his, snuffling and huffing, and leaving a trail of coldness over his skin. His best scowl has no effect either.

"Oh, why can't you just leave me alone?"

This time, his voice leaves him in a hoarse scream. He shouldn't be acting like this, not here, not where anyone can walk in and see him so weak and pitiful. He just doesn't know how to make any of it better. If Lily, his only true friend, doesn't want to know him, then what hope does he have that anyone else will? None. That's what. He's not even delusional enough to believe that Mulciber and Avery want him for anything more than his knowledge, the books that he borrowed, permanently, from his mother's collection (and, of course, he's needed for the translation. Who else has the _time_ ). He can thank his mother's blood for his competency too. If only she hadn't gone and sullied it with _Snape_ , maybe he would have been worth something more. He wouldn't have needed to work so hard to be looked at as something more than shit on the bottom of Pure Blood shoes. He would have had the power to protect Lily, he…

Well, that doesn't matter anymore anyway, does it? At least she is safe from him and his tainted blood.

"Mew." The kitten dabs his face again, brushing away a tear he hasn't noticed. Severus flicks his eyes up, letting them catch in the faded green of its stare. It fills him, slowly, with a feeling of warmth. He hasn't felt that for so long, since the moment he first saw Lily, truly, that he is afraid to move, afraid to make the feeling leave him.

The kitten raises its tear stained paw up to its nose. _What this?_

Severus jerks away, fumbling to his feet. His wand is in his hand as soon as he's up, pointing down at the bundle of fur on the bed. The magic burning away at the tip reflects in it's eyes like Will-o'-the-Wisps. The warmth inside of him hasn't vanished either, only growing stronger with each moment that the beast stares towards him. Severus steps backwards slowly until is knees slam into the bed behind him.

The cat advances.

"No, stay there."

There's no telling a cat what to do, but Severus, in his ignorance, doesn't know that.

Wand waving is ineffective as well, it seems. The kitten's eyes widen, paw outstretched and - _Play?_

Severus falls onto the bed behind him.

"Aww, Sevvie, you're not afraid of a little kitty, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Avery." Severus pushes himself from the bed, keeping as far away from the beast as he can. It's better to keep his eyes on both of them, and so he leans casually against one of the bed posts, arms folded. He keeps hold of his wand.

The other wizard picks his way across the floor, equally as distrustful of Severus if the tension in his shoulders is anything to go by. Avery has never really liked him. It's not a requirement for his association - you don't have to like someone to have a beneficial relationship with them. Avery just has to find you useful. Trust, on the other hand, no, he'll never trust Severus, won't ever trust anybody.

And you'd be a fool to trust Avery.

The wizard pauses five steps away from Severus. He makes a show of looking at his empty hands, the perfect shape of his nails, even as his eyes scathe over Severus' form. It feels like spiders crawling under his skin. It's a struggle to remain steady, still.

"A little birdie told me you were at the Lion's den again today. Did you _friend_ not wish to talk to you?"

"I don't see what that has to do with you."

"Come, now, Snappie boy, _everything_ you do is of my greatest concern. You're either with us, or with them, and you know what will happen to you and your mudblood whore if you pick the wrong side."

"Don't say that," Severus hisses.

Avery chuckles. "Ah, yes, I did hear that your bitch didn't appreciate the flattery you gifted her. Was it too much for her ears?"

"Shut up, Avery." His fingers creak around his wand. Avery is openly staring at him, lips pursed. Not good. _Fix it, Severus._ "I thought words like that were far too _muggle_ for the likes of you."

The wizard grunts. It's not a fix, but it seems Avery is going to let him off this time, his eyes finally retreating from Severus to the bed. "You know, Sevvie, that's an interesting cat you have there. Did you know that Mulciber came across it earlier this morning while you were _indisposed_?" A shiver creeps up Severus' spine at the tone, and the light flashing in Avery's gaze is no better at all. "He thought to have a bit of fun, you know what he's like, that Mulciber." He flicks his stare back at Severus, back to the cat. The creature hasn't moved a muscle since Avery appeared, not even to flick its tail. "I suppose he didn't learn his lesson after the debacle with that other mudblood, what's her name?"

Severus gives a shrug. He can't avoid to be careless again, and it's better to let the insult slide.

"You're right, it doesn't matter." He steps closer to the bed, and now the cat is paying attention, flicking its ear like it can hear something distracting. "Well, I came in just as Mulciber started screaming at the poor thing all because his little parlor trick wasn't working. He looked like he might flick something much worse if I hadn't arrived when I did. Such a temper. I couldn't let him get away with it - hurting a pet that belongs to one of _us_ , how distasteful.

Or maybe I should have waited for you?"

"I respect your decision, Avery."

Another grunt. "I just thought I'd let you know. If you care for your cat at all, you'd better keep it away from Mulciber, at least until he finds a new creature to torment."

Severus nods, the closest he can get to saying thank you. It's enough for now, and Avery turns sharply on his heel, pausing at the door to say "You'd better make an appearance at dinner tonight. Your sulking is unseemly. At least your pet is more acceptable this time." The door closes behind him.

"Mrow?"

"I don't want to hear it," Severus cuts in. "Unless you want to divulge how you managed to throw off the imperius curse." He hears the cat thump off the bed and trot across the floor towards him. It taps his robes. "Or better yet, tell me why you are here. You can talk, can't you? And leave my robes alone!" He rips them away, sending the cat his best snarl in the process.

The warmth inside him falters. _Don't like?_

"No, I don't like your claws in my clothes. Keep them to yourself or I'll cut. Them. Off." He huffs out a breath. "I shouldn't even be talking to you, this is madness. Just… just stop talking to me and bother someone else." He swishes his robes about him as he dismisses the creature. It's almost dinner time, and Avery is right. Sulking is unbecoming of him. He should try and catch Lily at the dining hall. It'll be hard to ignore him there, surely.

A half formed meow follows him to the door, and he stops to bark a final warning, "Stay away from Mulciber. And… and Avery too."

He doesn't even get close to Lily. Potter and his dogs watch him like barely tethered animals, just waiting for him to approach, to make a fool out of himself. He's not inclined to do that again.

Though Lily doesn't notice his hovering at the door, she also doesn't appear to notice Potter either. The thought doesn't cheer him as much as he wants. No. She's still laughing with her _girl friends,_ the ones that always complained of their association, that always laughed at him behind his back as if he couldn't hear them. She looks happy. What was it he expected? Her to have shadows beneath her eyes like him, to be unable to sit still, to miss him?

Maybe his next breath might have had him storming over, but Regulus catches him instead, placing himself between Severus and the Gryffindor table. "I am thankful that you have decided to join us for dinner."

"I apologise but I find I am no longer hungry, I -"

"Nonsense," the younger boy scoffs. "You simply must join us at the table. I'm not sure I can handle anymore of Mulciber's staggering conversational skills without you." The tight smile Regulus gives him says that's not the only reason. Most likely, Avery has made keeping Severus in line Regulus' prerogative.

"Fine." _Take me to your damn master._

The cat isn't waiting for him when Severus finally makes his way to the dormitories.

It isn't there as he changes into the transfigured bed sheets that acts as pyjamas, hidden away in the unlit bathroom corner.

It isn't there when he flicks through _Advanced Potion Making,_ the pages already crammed with his writing.

 _Good riddance,_ he thinks.

He doesn't manage to fall asleep until many hours later, when a small creature curls up against his back and purrs.

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 **AN: Chapter title comes from a quote by Oscar Isaac.  
In case you didn't guess already, I just really like cats. **


	3. They Only Want to Please Themselves

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, of course, I just let the cat out.**

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 **They Only Want to Please Themselves**

He spends exactly two minutes imagining that the cat was actually, kind of cute, maybe. It had protested him moving the bed with a squeak that had softened part of his resolve to hate it. When he peeks at its sleeping form, he finds it so tightly curled around that it is a perfect circle, nose buried into its tail and front legs shielding its eyes from the morning glare. Yes. If Severus is to define something as cute, it would be this.

And then he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and feels something _squish_ beneath them.

Lily isn't in the Great Hall for breakfast, but maybe that's a good thing. The Express will arrive tomorrow to take them home for the summer, and he might be able to convince Lily to at least look at him. He might hate Spinner's End and everything it represents, but he is just Severus there, and she is just Lily, and there are no house rivalries and stupid prejudices to keep them apart.

Unless you count Petunia. Which he doesn't.

He slips onto the bench beside Black, the younger. The boy is practically drooping into his breakfast, an occurrence so irregular that Severus figures he must be worried about returning home. This time of year always brings it out in him, though, with a brother like Sirius, Severus really can't fault him - the Lady Black had never taken kindly to her oldest son's placement amongst the lions, and even less so to his recent behaviour. Severus can only guess that spoiling Sirius as a child had created a rot inside him. He knows alot about rotten cores.

Mulciber drops next to him. "Did you know that your pet is…" he points towards the door.

Severus sighs. "It thinks it's being stealthy."

"You should do something about it. Teach it some discipline," Mulciber grunts. He loads his plate with food, dripping bits of egg onto the table. Severus pulls a face and shuffles closer to Regulus.

"She's not an it."

"What?"

Regulus casts his grey eyes over towards Mulciber. It's a testament to how tired he is that he doesn't even grimace at the other boy's lack of grace while eating. "Your familiar, Snape. I thought you would know already."

"I'm not much interested in it's - her - anatomy." He decides not to touch on the familiar part. If he is to have a familiar, surely it would be something cold, or hard, or - because he can't ignore the thought - beaked. Yes. He rather likes the idea of a raven, a symbol of death and intelligence.

Black shrugs a shoulder. "I just thought you'd like to know."

Severus considers the boy for a moment. He really doesn't look very well at all. Worse, even, than Severus himself. He shouldn't ask, it has nothing to do with him, after all, and yet keeping his curiosity to himself is damn near impossible now. He ends up waving his hands in the general direction of Regulus' overdrawn face and grunting. It is terribly unsophisticated, yet Regulus makes an 'o' shape with his mouth in understanding. Ridiculous.

"Si - my bro - He's not coming home. I overheard Them discussing it yesterday."

"Let me guess - the Potters?" Severus sneers.

"Wha' i' ma'er a'way?" Mulciber adds, food spluttering out of his mouth right alongside his words. He opens his mouth to continue, and promptly closes it beneath Severus' glare. He swallows quickly. "They's all blood traitors anyway, you're better off without him."

Severus wipes at imaginary spots on his robes. "He's not wrong, as much as it pains me to admit it."

"That's hardly the point." Regulus drops his gaze to his plate. "I'm going to have to be the one that tells mother - he always leaves it for me to tell her." It's not quite the truth. No, it probably is the truth, for the older Black had a lot of cowardice for a Gryffindor, but it's still not the point.

"I'll loan you my… cat. 10 Galleons for the summer. She will definitely be better company than your dog of a brother."

Regulus gives him a half smile, then shakes his head. "I think she'd kill me, if I tried to take her away from you," he says.

Be that has it may, Severus cannot take a cat to his home in Spinner's End. His father would very likely take her away from him, one way or another. Just because he doesn't want the creature, doesn't mean he wishes her harm or misfortune or a speck of his father's attention.

"Don't you have somewhere else you can go?" he asks, first. It's a reasonable question, he thinks.

The cat stares up at him.

"You can't go with me."

A cock of the head. Big eyes. Tail swish.

"No."

The warmth pushes at him, but he squashes the sensation. "I don't care what it is you think you want to say. You're not going with me."

Her tail flicks more violently. "Mew."

He throws his hands up into the air. "Why am I even arguing with you, you're a cat! If I tell you to stay, you will stay, and that's all there is to it."

She jerks back at that, ears pressing back against her skull, and forcing warmth at him until it overwhelms him. In his head, he hears _Am not dog._

"No? What are you then?" he hisses in reply.

The cat blinks a few times, slowly. _Sparrow._

"Sparrow? You're serious?" He barks out a single laugh. "I see no feathers on you!" The only feathers he has seen recently are the ones she kindly left beside his bed, along with the rest of the bird. He shakes his head of the memory.

 _You have no scales. Still Snake._ She sits taller, as if proud of her answer. _You Sevrus Snake, I Sparrow_ , _see?_

Severus pinches the bridge of his nose, preventing a shudder at the mispronunciation of his name. "At least tell me why Sparrow."

 _Taste good,_ she says, and bounds off to chase some dust lingering under Avery's bed.

The next day, Severus sits in a train compartment all of his own, ignoring the beast sleeping next to him on the bench.

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 **A/N: This chapter's title comes from a quote by Oscar Isaac 'Cats only want to please themselves'.  
Fun fact about me - I actually have five cats, and nearly seven hundred pictures worth of them on my phone **


	4. I'm a Cat We Don't Make Sense

_Nothing is mine - only the cat._ I'm a Cat. We aren't Required to Make Sense

His summer troubles start as soon as he gets to Platform 9 ¾. Firstly, either because his parents had forgotten his returning, or else his father had forbidden his mother from coming to get him again, he found himself alone outside the station. The train journey and subsequent bus ride to him house in Spinner's End took the remains of his money, the funds he had so carefully squirrelled away through the school year. He was lucky that Sparrow - or whatever she called herself - had decided to keep hidden. Or maybe she had finally grown wary of his sneers.

The worst part about standing outside that station had had nothing to do with being forgotten, or the heat that swamped him, and everything to do with Lily. She hadn't spared him even a glance, of course. Her dreadful sister had pointed him out as her family walked to their car, probably cackling like some feral animal at his poor clothing choice - he'd forgotten how hot London was in the summer - and nudged Lily with her elbow. Lily just shrugged her shoulders and stalked on.

And then, after all that, he had to sneak the damn cat into his room because she steadfastly _refused_ to stay outside. In fact, she had been oddly quiet since the bus dropped them off, her body rigid and tail tucked between her back legs, walking so close to Severus that he almost tripped over her once or twice. He couldn't blame her. The place was a shit hole.

It seemed as though his father was set to ignore him, so keeping Sparrow hidden proved easy. Only his mother ever stepped foot inside his room. Even those visits were far and few between; maybe Tobias had finally worked his slimy way into Eileen's skull and turned her against her only son.

As per usual, he spent as much of the summer outside as he could. In the past years, it had been to hang out with Lily in the park. This year, he still found himself in the park, only, instead of Lily, he had a cat. Not that Sparrow really spent much time in his company. Her attention was captured by the birds she tried to catch, and the shrews that scurried between the tree roots. She surprised Severus with her viciousness. There was no mercy for the prey that she chose, and she didn't always deliver a quick death, sometimes looking to Severus with her half-dead meal between her paws as if waiting. She never told him what for, and he never asked.

The final week of summer comes just like this. Severus sits in the crook of a tree branch, watching Sparrow chase butterflies like some excited child in the grass below. He can admit that he actually kind of likes her when she isn't forcing her thoughts into his head. The nights that she sleeps curled up at his side are the nights that he sleeps best. Is this how cats worm their way into people's hearts?

The silence doesn't last for long, unfortunately. From his perch in the tree, Severus sees Sparrow's body tense and back slowly towards the underbrush. Her tail is larger in width than he has ever seen. Instinctively, he reaches out for the warmth inside his mind, only to find it shrinking away from his touch.

He retracts from her immediately, sneering. _Do whatever you must then, cat._

At the other end of the park, the gate squeaks open. He looks up quickly, expectantly, but the boy that enters is only vaguely familiar to him. Well, okay, maybe not the boy himself. It's his father - a gambling friend of Tobias Snape. Nasty guy. Always watching Severus' mother with with eyes that couldn't be trusted.

The boy spots Severus and grins with more teeth than lip. "'Lo, Snapey, where's your girlfriend?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"I'm just a concerned friend, Snape." He holds his hands up in front of him. "I'd want to know if someone say my gurl hanging around with another guy."

Severus frowns. "What other guy?"

"Well, I don't know, do I? He ain't got your nose though, that's for sure." His laugh is high and nasally.

"Right."

"I could be persuaded to find out for you."

"Hmph. Anything you could find out, I could do so faster."

The boy - Severus feels his name is John, or maybe Thomas, or possibly Frank - loses his grin, blushing furiously. "Perhaps you already know who he is. Acts like a rich boy, the kind that's not wanted here." John-Thomas-Frank nods his head slowly, watching Severus' face crumble. "Now that I think about it, she called him 'Potter'."

The warmth has returned to the back of his head but he really has no interest in what the cat has to say. Did she know? Did she know what the boy had had to tell him? Was that the reason she had shut herself out. Turned him away? He pushes the warmth away, squashes it, compresses it, but - while Severus manages to keep the beast's voice quiet - he cannot manage to get rid of it from his mind. So he does the only other thing he can think of, and storm as fast as his long legs can carry him.

If John (or Thomas, or Frank) had never mentioned that accursed name, he could have dismissed his news like the rubbish it usually was. Spinner's End is a hotbed for gossip mongers and rumour makers and other such people - those who have nothing better to do with their words then spread hate and pain. He'd always thought _Petunia_ fit right into Spinner's End. Not Lily, though. Never Lily.

But there is no other explanation for Potter's name to tumble from some nobodies name - not unless he had actually heard it.

Severus has to know.

 _Does she matter, truly, Sevrus?_ Sparrow's words slip past his defenses.

He snarls over his shoulder at her, teeth bared. "She is the only thing that matters."

 _You'd die for her?_

"Yes!" He nears the corner to her home, his feet slowing.

 _Even if she'd not die for you?_

"You don't that she wouldn't." He can't turn that corner, he can't make his feet obey him.

 _She doesn't need you, does she, Sevrus?_

"What do you know? You're just...a - a stupid cat."

 _You need her, though._

"I…" _She's my friend._

Sparrow appears beside him, creeping out from the shadows of the house. _Do you still need to know, if he is here?_

He doesn't know what she is really asking. If Potter really is here, if Lily allows Potter into her home, if she shows him an ounce of the same kindness she once showed Severus, then that truly means she doesn't need him. Or worse, that she seeks to replace him with someone as vile and hot-headed and arrogant as… Yes, of course he needs to know. He needs to know if he meant nothing at all.

If Sparrow says anything more, it is lost in the blizzard that fills him. He turns the corner at last, and finds the answer to his question.

* * *

 _I'm not gonna lie, this was incredibly hard to write. I was originally going to introduce Sparrow's backstory, but I didn't have the heart to after battling through teenage drama. My little sister just had her own major falling out with some friends, and she said that, even though they hurt her, she still loves them and wants them to be okay even though she hates thinking about them so positively. Teenage hood is hard - so much of it is social._

 _Anyway, the chapter title comes from a quote from_ _Seanan McGuire in A Local Habitation._


	5. Share the Same Dream

_**I own nothing, I just let the cat out.**_ Share the Same dream

 _It is a dream, and it isn't. The sky above him seems endless, a blue that he has never seen, nor will ever see again. Around him, the grass stands as tall as his shoulder. The smell of it is divine._

 _He doesn't know where he is going. His feet pad softly beneath him, the earth barely moving with his touch as if he is truly weightless. It should terrify him. How easily he could lose himself in the feeling. How easy to fall away completely. Yet, his feet pad softly on, and he lets them._

 _The sky does not remain blue. While he walks, a shadow begins to darken it, to twist it. The blades of grass grow taller around him, the ground beneath him trembling, and yet still, he walks on._

 _At some point, the shadow above becomes a hand. Now, he does not walk, he runs. His feet slip and slide and scatter. There is nowhere to run, and he knows it. The hand closes around his body. He is dragged up, up into the sky. The world tips upside down._

" _What do we have here?" asks the hand._

" _What do we have here?" asks the hand._

" _What do we have here?" asks the…_

Sparrow isn't there when Severus wakes up. She isn't there when he throws his suitcase in the back of his father's car. She isn't there when they leave, rattling like the chains of the Bloody Baron. Severus gets on the train alone.

He doesn't care, of course. He never wanted the foul creature chasing after him anyway, getting fur all over his clothes, dropping bird carcasses in his shoes, talking to him like she knew anything about him. She would have tried to sucker him in. She would have tried to make them friends and then… and then he would have driven her away too. That's what Snape men did. They found a good thing and they tarnished it.

It really is no wonder Lily turned to Potter. Even Severus can admit he is much nicer on the eyes, though so in love with the sound of his own voice it's a wonder he can spare a glance for Lily.

What is he even doing? Going to Hogwarts, parading himself around so Potter and his dogs can laugh at him and humiliate him and then what? Having to watch Lily cuddle up to that bastard? Or worse, kiss him. Kiss him back, like she had down in Spinner's End.

He might have gotten a slap for his troubles, but Severus had seen her, only just for a moment, melt into his arms. The slap had been an afterthought. A 'anyone could see me' reminder.

When he had looked at them, he wondered what would have happened if he'd ever worked up the courage to kiss her. Would there have been a moment where she had forgotten about propriety? Would she have moved her lips against his?

Useless. Useless thinking.

"Did you have a good summer, Snapey?" Avery asks. The look on his face is answer enough. "My father and I had a veeery interesting visitor. I think he would have taken a liking to you, don't you agree, Reggie?"

Regulus doesn't look up from the table. If Severus thought his face was bad, it is nothing compared to the hollowness in the boy. There are bags beneath his eyes the size of grapes, a pallor to his skin that looks better suited to a ghost, offset by the beginnings of stubble on his chin. He clenches his fists so hard that his nails actually nick the skin. Blood drips onto the newspaper.

"I doubt he'd like your mudblood friend. Unless you're still not ta-"

"Avery," Severus jumps in. His voice is slow and cold and sharp. "It would be most prudent for you to close. Your. Mouth." Avery's mouth snaps shut. "No-one wants to hear your drivel."

" _What do we have here?" asks the hand._

" _Looks like a rat to me," answers the sky._

 _He struggles against the fingers that hold him, but they are stronger than he is, bigger than he is. The ground sways beneath him. The fall is endless._

" _My ma don't like rats," says the hand. "Should we kill it?"_

Two weeks in and neither Potter nor Lily make a move on each other.

Severus can't help but watch the dance, the way Potter sneaks glances at her, and the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. Sometimes, it's her, looking at him, brushing a finger over her lips. She's obvious, but she pretends. Potter is still an immature prat and Lily is too good for him.

The dance has an unexpected side effect - Potter has no time for Snivellus. His hexes are half hearted. Sloppy. He never throws first, it's always Black.

This year is different for him too. Now, Black throws his spells whenever his brother shows up, the glint in his eye like he wishes he was hitting Regulus instead.

 _It is a dream, and it isn't. The hand crushes him so tightly that he cannot breathe. He gave up struggling so long ago, when the pain in his legs was more than he could bare. How slowly that hand took everything from him and now, this final act._

" _What are you doing?"_

" _What are…_

"Gods, you look like death!"

"Thank you, Avery. You sure know how to throw a compliment."

Regulus glances up from the table. "He's right, Snape. Have you not been sleeping lately?"

Severus isn't sure how to answer that. There are nights that pull him under, straight into a dream with no ending, dreams that leave him gasping as if some great weight sits on his chest. And there are nights he stares blindly into his bed canopy, imagining kisses that might have been, and now never would. Neither left him feeling particularly restful.

"Just imagining what prank your brother will conjure next."

Regulus stiffens. "Surely he's already planning his escape to the Potters for Christmas. Those blood traitors." He tacks the insult on in a harried whisper. "My mother burned him from the tapestry over the summer. The smoke nearly choked us all."

Mulciber laughs, spraying his companions with half-eaten food.

They all ignore him.

"He chose his path. Eventually it will lead to his own destruction," Avery says. He smiles. "Maybe you'll be granted a turn with him, when he reaches the end of his path."

Regulus manages a weak smile in return. "May he be so honoured." He turns back to Severus. "Look. If you really can't sleep, maybe you should try some exercises of the mind. My father mentioned something to me about Occlumency. Maybe you can use it to keep unwanted thoughts out." He stands stiffly, eyes fixed on a corner of the room in the approximation of some haughty lordling, too good for this place.

"And suppose I find some information about it?" Severus asks.

"Why, Snape, surely you know to come and tell me all about it." It almost sounds like the younger Regulus, the second year Regulus, the boy with more money than good sense (unless one counted landing themselves in the house of Slytherin, which Severus supposes he ought to). How interesting. Severus has never imagined it was _always_ a mask, but of course, nobody wears their true face in public, do they?

He lets Regulus escape the table with his eye roll and his indifference. He has a library to peruse anyway.

The first mention he finds is in a small, leather bound journal with the title ' _Obscure magicks'._ At least, he is fairly certain that's what it says since the cover is mostly held together by dust and dirt, and the pages inside are more brown than yellow. The author seemed to have little interest in Occlumency beyond footnoting it as the defence against Legilimency, a more offensive branch of magic, and therefore deemed more exciting. Severus can see the appeal. Knowing the inside of your enemy's mind… well, the advantages one would gain from such a thing…

He also can't help thinking about Sparrow and her entry into his mind. Would Occlumency keep her out?

Not that that is a present issue seeing as he hasn't seen her in months. The warmth is still there, just on the outskirts of his mind, but she has said nothing, and he hasn't either.

Could Legilimency be something natural to a cat? Muggles seem to think cats are almost supernatural, demonic, able to see things that aren't even there. And Filch, the caretaker, he has a cat too, doesn't he? She'd never come close to catching Severus, of course, but she always seemed to know exactly where to be to catch a rule breaker.

He puts ' _Obscure Magicks_ ' to one side and begins searching the shelves for a magizoology book. When he finds one, the only catlike creature mentioned is the kneazle. There is nothing kneazle about Sparrow.

"Look, maybe you should just quit it with the jokes for a while."

Severus starts at the sound of Potter's voice drifting between the book cases. He makes himself as small as possible and slips up close to the shelves. A gap between some books reveals Potter's back. Severus reaches for his wand.

"You're only saying that because Evans gave you the _look._ " Black. Of course.

"It's got nothing to do with that," Potter replies hastily. Severus can almost hear the blush surely forming on his cheeks. Urgh. "I just think we're sixth years now. We have N.E.W.T.s to study for and…"

"Now I know you've gone 'round the bend, Prongs."

"Don't be like that. I got thinking and I realised that school only lasts two more years and then what? We continue being pranksters until we're old and grey and hairy?"

"When did that thought spring up? When you were exploring Evans' tonsils with your tongue or after she slapped you?"

"Oh shut up, Padfoot. I told you, it has nothing to do with Lily!"

"Whatever. Are Wormtail and Moony on their way or what?"

"Right." There's a rustle of paper and Potter mutters something under his breath. "Look, there they are."

Black hisses. "And look who else is here."

Severus feels the bottom his stomach drop out.

It seems that Potter's reformed attitude does not include those with unfortunately sized noses, greasy dispositions and the sneer of a wannabe dark lord. At least, it's not enough to leash his beloved dog. Black is fast, but, today, Severus is faster. The insults Black throws at him are nothing new, and it's easier without the eyes and the sniggers and the pointing fingers, easier to fight back, blow for blow. It's a triumphant moment when Black's wand lands in his hands.

Black only has venom in his eyes. As if he would appreciate it.

He rather likes it, having the boy look up at him, even if it is just a difference of a couple of inches.

"Do you know what they did?" Black sneers. "Do you know what they did to Reggie?"

Severus twitches. "What do you mean?"

"I saw it. That mark. On his arm. It means that they finally did it, they gave him to that twisted bastard, sold him so they could prove how loyal they are."

Another twitch. He's ruining it, this moment of victory, with his drivel and his talking of Regulus, as if he has any right to speak of the brother he left behind. "How do you know he didn't do it willingly?"

"Don't talk about him as if you know him! Reggie wouldn't do that, he's a good person!"

"How do you even know what he's like, Black, where have you been since the moment that hat sat on his head and proclaimed him as something indiscriminately _evil_?" Black is shaking so hard with every word that it Severus almost can't bite back the smile. He chooses his next words carefully, watching them twist inside the Gryffindor's chest. "Where. Were. You. If he was so unwillingly, why didn't you save him?"

Wizards do not need wands to fight, as it turns out. Black launches himself across the space between them, throwing Severus' back into the shelves. His mouth opens, closes, words he can't say fluttering on the tip of his tongue. He settles on, "You could have saved him."

"I wasn't even aware he needed it," Severus replies tartly. "As much as you appear to despise me - a feeling which is mutual, I assure - I had far more pressing matters to tend to over the summer than join an exclusive club for bigots and bastards. You might fit right in, however."

Black's fist slams into the book case over Severus' head. "I don't believe you."

Potter places a hand on his shoulder."Come on, Padfoot. Pince'll notice something's amiss soon." He manages to pull Black back just a fraction. "Come. On."

"This isn't over, Snivellus. Not for you. Think about it. If a family can sell a favourite son to buy their survival, what do you think a friend will do to another? You Slytherins only care about yourselves." He lowers his brow, eyes darkening. "And no-one will be there to save you, either."

" _What are you doing?"_

 _The hand drops him as if bitten. He tries to catch his breath in the sudden reprieve, but his chest burns in agony._

" _Oh, it's you. That Snape kid. You ought to mind your own business."_

" _Your mum won't like that you got blood on your church shirt."_

" _That's none a your business either."_

" _It is. Your mum came knocking on our door for you. She sounded pretty angry."_

" _Urgh! Whatever!" The shadow in the sky fades away. He wheezes. It is a beautiful shade of blue, the sky. Endless._

" _I'm sorry I couldn't save you," says the other one, the one that brought the colour back. He tries to reply, but there's nothing left inside his body, not even air._

* * *

 ** _AN: Chapter title comes from a quote from Barbara L. Diamond: 'How nice it is to think that feline dreams, like our own, are painted with creative brush strokes from time to time. Perhaps my cats and I even share the same dream: a world where all kittens are wanted and loved, and where every cat has a safe, warm place to sleep... and to dream.'_**

 ** _I actually had fun writing this one, though I suppose quite a lot happened._**

 ** _I have a little theory that there must be something a little magic about cats, since squibs seem rather taken by them in the Harry Potter series. My final thought is that, if cats truly have nine lives, I wonder how many of them are actually happy ones._**


End file.
